Nadia of the Nile

Nadia of the Nile

This is a story from a long time ago,

A time when I was young and not so very old,

I was in the midst of a journey from Beirut to Tehran,

I had stopped in the desert to rest for the night,

It was cold, it was freezing,

Not a soul could be heard,

I was singing to my camel and putting her to sleep,

Rest was imperative, as from our destination we were still far.

Suddenly out of nowhere a voice awoke me with a start,

Do you mind if I could spend the night in your caravan?

To this I enquired, ‘What name do you go by?’

And then she replied, ‘I am Nadia of the Nile,

I was robbed of my tent in a skirmish by the town,

The wind, it is biting, and I am chilled to the bone,

I think I am injured and can’t carry on.’

I then told her she could spent the night in my tent,

But I secretly kept a sword by my side,

For you never know,

When the enemy is behind your back,

Being the host,

I then gently asked, ‘Would you care for some wine?

Your injuries are deep,

It might get better with the tincture of Iodine?’

And there I was kneeling and tending to her wounds,

There was as shard that was entwined in her back,

Even as I eased it out gently I knew it did hurt,

But from her side not a sinew did twich,

She continued to sit motionless with her clenched her jaw,

Without a sound she just gazed into the fire.

On her these wounds of war didn’t seem like aberrations,

They fit perfectly as a part of a beautiful whole,
With a body so graceful and green eyes so watchful.

In our mirth, we talked and we talked and conversed through the night,

It was cold, it was freezing,

And not a soul could be heard,

And we drew closer and closer until we were one,

But then as I was drifting into a slumber,

She told me she would depart by first light.

I don’t remember the time,

Except a kiss on my cheek,

She mentioned she was leaving and thanked me for everything,

And then she waited till I fell back asleep.

In the morning when I awoke,

I wasn’t sure if it was a dream,

But when I looked around; and I found my things gone,

I knew they had been stolen,

By Nadia of the Nile,

Except my camel now sitting,

With a look so benign.

Beside me lay my empty trunk,

Inside was a note pinned to the front,

It read, ‘I am indeed sorry for what I have done,

My story was true,

And I have no doubt that you saved my life,

Unfortunately I was paid not to leave you alive,

Last night when I came I was in too much pain,

And by the morning light I knew I would never be the same,

I knew I couldn’t kill you,

And I promise you’ll never see me again.’

I wept for my loss but thanked God I was alive,

I knew I was lucky for she didn’t get what she desired,

The papers, they were tied to the foreleg of my camel,

And those in my trunk; they were counterfeit,

But this I did realise that she’d probably have to die,

The fakes that she had obtained, they weren’t worth a dime,

And those who had paid her would slay her in their anger.

I cried for I knew it was because of me she would die,

And if I were dead she would still be alive.

Mukund Palat Rao (August 8, 2011)